Railway Track

Rushing to the third class When I was a young student Undertaking train journeys Often looking for a window seat. Amid the track's rhythm Full of hope for the future I saw countryside and cities Leaving behind from the coach window. The hawkers' calls echoed Inside the compartment, A counter point to the beggars' songs, Their handicap a stark plea. A clatter of the wheels, Accompanied the train as it ran, A sweet soundtrack while running Through the fields and towns. Years have passed today I am a retired person . Sometimes boarding A second class compartment, The third class is gone. The clatters,horns,whistles, Hawkers' voices,the beggars' songs- Even today have not changed. So I am and my pocket became thin like when I was a student Except that today I have grown old .